


Oath by Elementalv, a Selective Sampling

by kumquatix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Character, Dubious Consent, M/M, Other, Remix, remix madness, transformative sampling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumquatix/pseuds/kumquatix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Castiel particularly <em>wants</em> to have sex. Castiel still wonders on occasion what his Father had been thinking when he’d introduced <em>that</em> innovation for reproduction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oath by Elementalv, a Selective Sampling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elementalv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Oath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/65130) by [elementalv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/pseuds/elementalv). 



> Elementalv is the sole author of the following words and sentences. I have made an extremely selective sampling of them, to construct a different meaning. Kind of like a vid, without the music or moving pictures.

It’s not that Castiel particularly _wants_ to have sex. Castiel still wonders on occasion what his Father had been thinking when he’d introduced _that_ innovation for reproduction.

 _And gratification_ , he grudgingly admits in the all-too lonely silence of his mind. Despite the grimaces they make, as well as the odd noises and utterly nonsensical commentary some are prone to, it’s clear that humans enjoy sex a great deal.

* * *

The brothel was a bad idea, and he tried to tell Dean, but Dean wouldn’t hear it, and now they’re driving away without another prospect of a sexual partner for Castiel. He’s fine with that, truly, because for all that humans appear to derive pleasure from it, sex is a very messy act. If Dean were to take Castiel’s wishes into consideration, the failure five miles back wouldn’t be an issue, but Castiel _knows_ Dean. He knows how Dean feels about failure, and given the lack of Sam in his life at present, Castiel knows that Dean is already feeling as though he has made yet another mistake.

Castiel sighs again.

Dean glances over at him. "Look, Cas. Don’t worry. We’ll find another place. It’ll be —"

"A problem, just as the last 'place' was," he mutters, still gnawing over the problem of Dean's unrealistic expectations of himself. It takes him a moment to realize that was the exact wrong thing to say, because he can all but see the waves of guilt and self-recrimination rolling off Dean. He says quickly, "It’s not your fault."

"Yeah. Right."

They pull into the driveway of the abandoned house Dean has taken over, and Castiel realizes he needs to make a positive, decisive move now, or else Dean will sink into yet another well of self-loathing for failing to advance Castiel’s sexual experience.

Before Dean can leave the car, Castiel puts his hand on Dean’s thigh. He hopes he’s calculated the correct distance between knee and groin, and judging by Dean’s stuttered breath, Castiel believes he has succeeded. Speaking quietly, Castiel says, "Prostitutes don’t interest me."

"Oh yeah?" Dean is staring down at Castiel’s hand, which is gently squeezing Dean’s thigh, and he is having difficulty in speaking. "Maybe — maybe we could go to a bar."

"Those women will not interest me either," Castiel says gently. He moves his hand slightly closer to Dean’s groin and squeezes again.

"Um." Dean stops there, and Castiel moves his hand a bit higher. The shift helps Dean begin speaking again. "What does interest you?"

The question is unexpected. In Castiel's experience with Dean, Dean should have asked, with some degree of force, that Castiel remove his hand. After all, Dean has very specific ideas about what he calls personal space and Castiel’s invasion thereof. He also has very specific tastes in sexual partners, and Castiel's vessel does not fit within those parameters by any stretch of the imagination.

Castiel swallows and answers, “You interest me.”

This is the point at which Dean should grab Castiel’s wrist with sufficient force to break it. He should then shove Castiel against the passenger door with much invective and tell Castiel to leave, to never return. Once Castiel has been shoved out of the car, Dean should then peel out of the driveway so that he can assert his masculinity with a willing woman. Castiel knows this as well as he knows the back of the hand that used to belong Jimmy Novak.

Dean does none of the things Castiel expected. Instead, he lets out a small sound that Castiel classifies as a whimper, and when he grabs Castiel’s hand, it is not to cause injury, but rather to seek reassurance. He looks deep into Castiel’s eyes and says, "You mean that?"

Castiel would like to blink at that, but really, if he makes a wrong move, Dean will be off and running. With blinking off the board as a possible reaction, Castiel leans closer and says, "Yes."

* * *

After a time, Castiel realizes that Dean has managed to finish undressing them both and is shifting them steadily toward the bed. Dean pauses, a question in his eyes, and Castiel gets fairly ruthless in banishing his doubts by way of a well-timed lick of Dean’s left nipple.

From that point on, Castiel truly does lose himself in the moment. The drag of Dean’s penis against Castiel’s stomach is countered by the rasp of Castiel’s stubble against Dean’s jaw. Dean’s face in the throes of passion no longer looks as odd as it used to. So involved is Castiel in his own reactions to Dean that his climax is almost — well — anticlimactic. He thinks he should have been more aware of his release, more in tune with it.

Dean rolls off Castiel with a muttered, "Fuck me."

Castiel's penis is hard with just a thought.

Dean groans and says, "You just came. How the hell can you be ready again?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel intones.

Dean grabs a pillow and hits Castiel with it before lying back down. "Sleep first, fucking later."

In a moment, Dean’s arm is around Castiel’s shoulders, and he’s tugging Castiel close against him. Dean’s skin is warm and sticky and smells of the alcohol he drank earlier. Dean’s armpit smells worse, but it doesn’t bother Castiel, nor does the fact that Dean falls asleep almost immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> "Oath" is a great fic, and elementalv is a talented author. Their beautiful words could not be improved on by me, and I certainly would not want to steal any credit for them. The way I have edited down their original fic is not intended as a slight against "Oath", nor a critique of it. It is more of a musing on the fact that my favorite parts of it, when taken in isolation, make up a significantly different story.


End file.
